


Post-battle silence

by AngelofPerdition



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:13:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6242527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelofPerdition/pseuds/AngelofPerdition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been strange at first, that silence, disconcerting even; but now it was a comfort. Now, the silence fell over her like a security blanket, like a warm embrace and a whispered “It’s okay, it’s over now.” </p>
<p>Anora shows up when the battle is over. Surana is not impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post-battle silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Solas_is_an_egg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solas_is_an_egg/gifts).



During her first year with the Grey Wardens - or rather, during her first year as the leader of the two remaining Fereldan Wardens - Surana had found that the moments after a battle were quieter than the quiet before a storm. No more steel on steel and flesh, no more grunts and cries of pain - just silence and your own blood rushing in your ears.

It had been strange at first, that silence, disconcerting even; but now it was a comfort. Now, the silence fell over her like a security blanket, like a warm embrace and a whispered “It’s okay, it’s over now.”

None of the others had dared speak during that silence. Perhaps it was as sacred to them as it was to her, or maybe they simply sensed how much it meant to her. Garahel didn’t bark, Alistair didn’t joke, Morrigan didn’t scoff, Oghren didn’t belch.

It surprised her, to be honest, how much it pissed her off when Varel broke the spell.

“Maker’s breath,” he said. He was standing near the window, looking out over the recovering land that was now Surana’s to rule.

Surana looked up from where she was leaning against the wall to glare at him. She didn’t snap at him like she half-wanted to; perhaps her silence could still be salvaged.

It couldn’t - maybe because Varel hadn’t actually fought in the final battle against that articulate Blighted creature and therefore didn’t feel the silence like she did. Maybe simply because he had actually been trained as a soldier instead of thrust head-first into war and therefore didn’t _need_ the silence like she did. Whatever the reason, the fact remained that Varel once again opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s the Queen. She’s here.”

 

Surana’s knees still weren’t strong enough to properly support her, so she used her staff as a crutch while pretending not to. She’d fight another broodmother before she showed any weakness in front of her gracious majesty Queen Anora.

Anders stood close behind her, a gentle hand on her lower back. Were he any other guy, under any other circumstances, she’d have set him on fire. As it was, she appreciated the moral support as well as the small but steady trickle of rejuvenation magic flowing from his fingers.

Oghren was next to her. He was leaning heavily on his axe, but he was obvious about it. For a moment Surana envied him for his nonchalance; then she remembered what their differences meant. He could afford nonchalance, and she was the Commander of the Grey and Arlessa of Amaranthine. However laughable that was.

The gates opened. Surana ignored her aching muscles and straightened her back.

There was no denying that Anora was premium Queen-material. Surana had been impressed by Cailan the first time at Ostagar, and while she’d never seen them together, she was pretty sure Cailan would’ve had a hard time getting himself heard with Anora at his side. She was tall, she was beautiful, she was majestic. Her golden armor was polished and decorated with a light blue cloak, clasped at her collar with a pin set with rubies.

And next to her stood a woman in simple metal plate armor with a burning sword on the breast.

Surana clenched her jaw. A Queen and a Templar. _All good things come in pairs_.

They strode through the gate - because women of such importance couldn’t simply _walk_ , of course. Walking was for peasants, which they very much weren’t. But now, unlike last time they’d seen each other, Surana wasn’t either.

Varel knelt down for his Queen; Surana remained standing - both out of defiance, and because she wasn’t sure she would be able to get back up again. The rest seemed to take their cue from her rather than from the Seneschal, which was more than a little gratifying. Anora frowned at her lack of etiquette but didn’t comment, which was also quite gratifying. Unlike this whole situation.

“Commander Surana,” she greeted with a nod, which Surana returned. The Queen looked around, at the crumbling walls of Vigil’s Keep, and the priests and healers tending to the numerous wounded. “It seems we arrived too late to be of any assistance. My apologies.”

“As you see, we managed,” Surana said. “What _few_ darkspawn remained, have fled.” She didn’t put too much emphasis on _few_. She wasn’t that petty - but there was no need to completely understate her accomplishments, was there?

“True,” Varel confirmed. “But the Grey Wardens who arrived from Orlais appear to be either dead, or” he hesitated, “missing.”

The Queen’s elegant eyebrows shot up. “Missing?” she repeated. “As in taken by the darkspawn? Do these creatures take prisoners?”

She looked as scandalized as Surana felt by the idea. Funny, considering Anora had never really been a prisoner. Not _really_. Not like these Wardens would be, and certainly not like Surana had been, for Anora’s sake no less.

She looked back to Surana. “You have quite the task ahead of you, Commander,” she said. “I will offer what aid I can, but it seems you will be largely on your own.”

Any surprise Surana may have felt at the offer of aid had evaporated by the time she was done speaking. ‘It seems you will be largely on your own,’ or, in other words, ‘I know I said I’d help, but all I can offer are meaningless platitudes.’ _That_ was exactly what Surana had expected.

Next to her, Oghren made an indignant noise. “Hey, what am I? Chopped nug livers?”

“From the smell, that’s not a bad guess,” Anders muttered. It was only then that Surana noticed he’d been quiet the entire time, which seemed unlike him. She’d never really known him that well, but Jowan had said that Karl had told him that the kid never stopped talking. Except for the times he did, when he wouldn’t say a word for days.

“I came here to join the Grey Wardens,” Oghren continued, unperturbed. “And from the looks of it, you could use the extra hands. Now where’s the giant cup? I’ll gargle and spit.”

“You’re not allowed to spit,” Surana told him. She regretted it the moment it left her mouth. She regretted it even more when Oghren grinned like she’d just handed him a pint of ale.

“Heh,” he said. “That’s what I always say.”

“Joining the Wardens, eh?” Anders said. “Well, good luck with that.” It was louder than what he’d said before, louder than perhaps he’d meant. The attention shifted from Oghren to him. Surana felt him move a little closer to her - and then, the Templar woman moved herself between Surana and Anora.

“Queen Anora, your Majesty, beware,” she declared - because a woman of such importance couldn’t just _talk_. “This man is a dangerous criminal.”

“I beg your pardon?” Anora said. She had taken a stumbling step backward when the Templar had all but shoved her, and looked completely scandalized, Surana noted with satisfaction.

“She means me,” Anders said. His hand had tightened on Surana’s back. Under any other circumstances, she’d have set him on fire. As it was, she recognized the desperation of a trapped man.

“This man is an apostate we were in the process of bringing back to the Circle to face justice,” the woman continued heatedly.

“Oh please,” Surana interrupted. There were many things she couldn’t take, but Templars talking about _justice_ was very close to the top of that list. “The things you people know about justice would fit into a thimble.”

“I’ll just escape again, anyhow,” Anders added. Surana wasn’t sure that was helping his case, but she admired his guts. There weren’t too many people who would say something like that, in front of the Queen no less.

“Never!” the Templar said. She started forward, but Surana blocked her path. “I’ll see you hanged for what you’ve done here, murderer!”

“Murderer?” Anders repeated incredulously. “But those Templars were-” He cut himself off and shook his head. “Oh, what’s the use. You won’t believe me anyhow.”

“It seems there isn’t much to say,” Anora started.

Perhaps that was the last straw. Perhaps it was the way Anders clung to her like a lifeline. Perhaps it was the fact that Surana was annoyed, and it was starting to rain as well, and all she wanted was a hot bath and some proper healing magic before she’d have to deal with her banns tomorrow.

“Actually,” she said. “There is a lot to say. I could go on for _years_. Luckily, I don’t have to. Because, here’s the funny thing.” She took one hand off her staff to square her shoulders, lifted her chin in a probably futile attempt to appear - well, if not intimidating, then at least a little taller than her five foot nothing - and looked the Templar straight in the eye, something she’d never dared when she was still part of the Circle. “I invoke the Right of Conscription.”

“What?” the woman, who Surana realizes _still_ hadn’t introduced herself, exclaimed. “Never!”

Surana talked over her. _I have more power than you here_ , she thought. It was exhilarating. “I remove this mage from your jurisdiction. You have nothing more to say on the matter.”

The Templar looked at Anora in outrage, who in turn looked at Surana, eyes wide in shock, but also - admiration? That couldn’t be right.

“Is that wise, Commander?” Anora said.

Surana said nothing for a moment and straightened her back even further. It wasn’t hesitation, it was building the suspense. “Unless you’ve suddenly got something to say.” She paused, then added, “Your Majesty” as both a challenge and because she wasn’t sure how far she could push her luck. But if Anora properly remembered how indebted she was to her, she should be able to push it pretty damn far.

Anora’s jaw was set. Surana refused to look away. Eventually, Anora gave in, though she kept her eyes on Surana. “I believe the Wardens still retain that right,” she said. “I will allow it.”

“If your Majesty thinks it is best,” the Templar ground out. Anora nodded, and broke eye contact.

 

Watching the two women stride through the gates was so much more satisfying when it was from behind. The gates shut behind them, and left silence in their wake. Surana could hear her blood rushing in her ears, her heart pounding with the realization that that could’ve easily gone south really fast. But she won. She won.

The silence settled over her like a blanket. Anders let out the breath he’d been holding. Oghren said nothing. Varel kept silent. Mhairi looked between Surana and the gates, her lips pursed.

The quiet after a battle had a special place in Surana’s heart. With her new responsibilities and all that was undoubtedly to come, she was glad it wasn’t exclusive to the battles fought on the field.


End file.
